Tag: kindness

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put a little love in your heart

My faith in humanity has been sorely damaged in 2020. I try to believe that people are inherently good, that for the most part we would all do what we can to spare others pain, illness or death. Here lately though, I’m finding it hard to hold on to that belief.

For the last twenty years or so, the guiding force of my life has been kindness, unconditional love for my fellow man. I believe that it is my duty to help care for others, to at the very least not be the cause of their pain.

I look around me at the world and I can’t understand where the absolute disregard for others comes from. How do you reach adulthood without some semblance of compassion?

Where does the fury come from? How is this who we are as a country? As we slink closer to 300,000 people dead from a virus that we can control, why are we not doing it? Why is the outrage about measures to control it rather than about the number of American citizens are dead and dying? How many deaths will it take for us to realize that the simple steps of wearing a mask in the presence of others, keep yourself distant from others, stay home if you can are not evil machinations attempting to rob you of your civil liberty.

They are meant to save lives! If you can not wear a mask, for real or imaginary reasons, most places that require one will do no-touch curb side delivery. Just order online, drive up and get what you need put into your trunk.

There is no need to demand to enter a building of any kind without your mask. There is no need to harass store employees, or threaten them with a bad interpretation of what the ADA actually is. These are people who are working minimum wage jobs that put them in a very high risk category for catching this virus. They are there to help you.

My heart weeps. Please put a little love in your heart. Save lives.

Cover Photo by Aung Soe Min on Unsplash

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the writing part of writing

Being an author is an odd sort of thing, I suppose, especially to those who are not *people who write* and especially not for those who also do not read. I was a voracious reader as a child. I absorbed words like a sponge. Stories were vehicles that transported me out of my bedroom and into worlds larger than any one mind can conceive.

Maybe it was inevitable that I would pick up a pen and start writing. I wanted in on that magic! I loved creating new worlds, new characters. I wrote science fiction, fantasy, and poetry. I tried my hand at mystery and romance. I studied and tried to emulate my favorite authors. I wanted my prose to be lush and invigorating. I wanted the worlds in my stories to come to life.

For that to happen, I learned, the author needs to spend a good amount of time prior to words hitting the paper. There is world building to do. There are characters to build out so that they are realistic and not just cardboard cut outs. There is plot to invent, stretch, turn, twist and resolve. Inevitably, that plot has holes that need to be filled.

And all of that comes either before or during the actual writing part of the writing process. Okay, sometimes after the first draft is done.

I can spend months (or longer) doing all the stuff that happens in my head before I start writing. My muse loves world building more than anything, so the worlds I see in my head are amazing landscapes of complex societies that I can only hope I capture as I begin to write.

This last weekend saw over ten thousand new words in the second Blood Witch book, signaling an end of the mental block 2020 clamped on my muse and ushering in the period where the words begin to spill from my fingers. It’s the part of the writing process that wants to just devour my life. The story spins out in my head faster than my fingers can translate it to the page, and I am best able in this phase to tune out my inner editor and just get it down.

I maybe feel the most like myself when I’m doing the writing part of writing. Unfortunately for me, today is Monday…and that means a return to the day job, so more word craft will need to wait, though I am hoping to get through this scene before I open the work computer.

I hope you are safe and sane, Readers, and that your week is filled with magic and kindness.

Cover Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

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the one with the bird

We, here in the US, are barreling into the holiday season with a pandemic and a recession riding shotgun. Or maybe they’re driving and we’re just along for the ride. Either way, it feels like death is hovering over what is meant to be a festive time with family and friends.

I’m not the biggest fan of the overly commercialized monstrosities that Thanksgiving and Christmas have become here in the US, though I will admit that having a couple days off work to spend with family is important to me.

I’d be remiss to throw myself fully into Thanksgiving without acknowledging the inherent problems with the holiday, but I can do that and still sit it gratitude for the life I have and the family that has helped me achieve that life.

We’ve never had huge family get-togethers because our family isn’t huge. It’s generally my mother, my brother and his wife, their two daughters and myself. I’ve been isolating, they’ve been isolating (where possible) and still it feels a little bit off as I get prepared for tomorrow.

I will be making up some dinner rolls and a green bean dish (not casserole…a tastiness of bacon, green beans, garlic, mushrooms) as my contributions to dinner, and we’ll sit around a table full of good food and our little family and tell stories about favorite holiday memories, the same ones we tell every year. I think we’re past the point of Thanksgiving food fights (though that is a very favorite memory for my brother, mother and I…I think I was sixteen that year) to relieve some of the tension of life, and we probably won’t have another epic Cards Against Humanity session this year again, but there will be love at that table.

And that is my wish for you too, Readers, that there be love at your table. Please be safe. There were more than two thousand deaths from Covid-19 yesterday. Don’t take chances with your lives, or the lives of those you love.

Cover Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash

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questions and curfews

You know how some days your coffee tastes extra good? Today is like that. Mmmm, coffee.

In other news, California is going into a partial lockdown this weekend in an effort to curb the spread of Covid-19, which is to say that the governor issued a curfew curtailing public outings and/or gatherings between the hours of 10 pm and 5 am.

I have questions.

How much gathering and outings are happening during those hours?
Is the virus only contagious during those hours?
With the list of exceptions, what is it we’re actually not allowed to do?
Who is picking up prescriptions after 10 pm?
Who is picking up dinner at a restaurant after 10 pm?

As an agoraphobic introvert, I don’t understand why just staying home is such a problem for so many. I mean, I realize I’m in a minority here and that other people need human contact a whole lot more than I do, but with the idea that going out into the world might mean death for you, or a loved one, how is that choice hard?

In yet other news, being up super early means I get some extra writing time today. Coupled with the extra good tasting coffee, this news makes me happy. It’s the little things, you know?

Happy Friday, Readers. Stay safe. Wear your mask if you have to go out. Stay home if you can. Wash your hands. Be kind, especially now. Kindness matters.

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stitching it together

I spent my weekend split between writing and watching whatever random thing caught my attention on Netflix/Prime/Disney/Hulu while crocheting. I’ve had trouble finding a pattern I liked for a sweater I want to make, so I’m embarking on the path of creating one. Not sure how that’s gonna work, but I’m giving it a go.

In what I was watching…Saturday was an afternoon of movies on Netflix. I enjoyed “What Happened to Monday” which is a near future sci-fi sort of thing involving a world where the law dictates one child per family and a set of identical septuplets. I also watched a biopic on Helen Reddy. Like I said, it was all very random.

Yesterday though I indulged in a marathon of “Whitechapel” which was a British cop show a few years back.

I needed the break from the onslaught of news.

My usual outlet for finding my center on the dark days used to be helping others, usually with buying breakfast for some homeless folks or giving away stuff I’ve made, but since I’m not leaving the house, that path is not open to me. I think maybe that’s part of what has made this time so dark for me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still giving, it’s just at a distance these days which kind of minimizes the internal reaction I get from a stranger’s smile or from talking with someone who most people ignore.

Creating is what is getting me through though, whether I’m crafting with words or with yarn or with paints and oil pastels. It also helps to have work during the week. It gives me focus.

Right now I need to focus on getting coffee and breakfast into me before my first conference call of the day. Happy Monday, Readers! Lets make it the best we can in these circumstances. Stay home if you can. Wear your mask. Wash your hands. Keep your distance. Be kind.

Cover Photo by Olliss on Unsplash

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#vote

Tomorrow is the big day. Election day. We’ve seen record breaking turn outs to early voting and absentee/mail in voting, but that is no reason to get complacent. It is our duty, as American citizens, and in a time like ours not one of us can take that duty lightly.

This election cycle is more make or break than any I can remember. In the last four years our country has become more divided, more broken than I have ever seen. We are divided racially, ethnically, politically, religously and by hatred. In many cases it is a hatred that has been foisted upon us, or drug out of our inner psyche to be put on display.

Somehow, we’ve given permission to our baser selves to be brazenly angry about differences, about changes and about something as simple a concept as equality. We seem to find it easier to demonize those we see as enemies, call them names and deny them basic human dignity.

But we shouldn’t make ourselves feel better about ourselves at the expense of others. We don’t need to deny other people rights to keep those rights for ourselves. As someone once said, it isn’t pie.

I’ve seen more racism, ageism, ableism, sexism and hate of the LGBTQ+ community in the last four years than I can actually believe existed four years ago. Hate is contagious, and it is spreading faster than the coronavirus.

But tomorrow we have the ability to stand up and make it known that hate has no home here. It might be our last chance.

I won’t elaborate on all the various ways the person who is supposed to be leading us has instead worked to destroy us, there are plenty of other people doing that. Instead, my focus is on healing us, as a country. Our first step is to vote out those who foster and stoke the fires of hate, who pit us against each other so we won’t notice that they are robbing us blind.

Vote as if your life depended on it, because it might. Vote as if your BIPOC neighbors lives depend on it, because they do. Vote as if your gay brother’s marriage is on the line, because it is. Vote, not with the hate they want you to feel, but with the love you have for your family and your country.

If you haven’t already cast your vote, I hope you have a plan to get to the polls tomorrow. I hope you make it a priority in your day.

Above all, I wish you kindness and joy, Readers. Kindness and joy.

Cover Photo by Glen Carrie on Unsplash

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vote

For Pagans, Samhain (Halloween) is often considered our “new year”. It is a time of reflection and remembrance, and a time to look forward to what the new year might bring us. It seems fitting then that what follows Samhain is an election…an election that will decide the course of our country for the next four years.

Like many Americans, I am hopeful for a change to happen, specifically a change toward a kinder nation. In recent years I’ve watched in dismay as anger and fear has swept our country, racism and bigotry exploding out of the dark spaces where it has lain hidden for decades.

I am a person who believes that we are called upon to care for our fellow human beings, and that healthcare, food and housing should be a fundamental right.

I implore you to vote. Vote for a kinder world. Vote for candidates that will bring us forward, not backward.

I love you, Readers! Have a wonderful Wednesday.

Cover Photo by Kari Sullivan on Unsplash

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the autumn of innocence

I was born in September. I don’t know if that has any bearing on my love for autumn, but I like to believe it does. In my Upstate New York childhood, autumn meant new school clothes and supplies (I still love new notebooks and pens and markers and folders and, and, and…), the smell of dry leaves and cider, and the excitement of Halloween. The highlight of October was the annual trip to Kelly’s Farm to pick out our pumpkins and get fresh brewed cider and old fashioned donuts.

While the innocence of that time has gone, and the world is a different place today than it was then, there is a certain wonder to the autumn months still. I sometimes miss the New York autumns, especially here in California where we basically get two seasons, Summer and Not-Summer. Sure we have leaves on the ground and the mornings and nights are cooler, and sometimes even cold, but the true fall colors don’t happen here, unless you travel up into the mountains.

We’re into the time of year here that means long pants and long sleeves in the morning, tank tops and shorts by noon and the air conditioner in the late afternoon. I go to bed with the fan blowing and not even the sheet pulled over me and wake up under blankets chilled.

Last night I refreshed my altar for my ancestors as sort of an invitation. The veil between worlds is thinning as we approach Samhain and I welcome them to visit.

Samhain, and Halloween for that matter, will be different this year, I imagine. For me it is usually a quiet holiday, being the my front door doesn’t face the street, but just the sheer number of newly dead this year…loved ones to be remembered and honored…changes the tenor of the day. This was true for me the Samhain after 9/11, and this is so much more, so many more dead, and many of them left this world bereft of human touch, without the ones they loved by their side.

On that somber note, I wish each of you a lovely week and the kindness and compassion that changes lives. I’m off for more coffee and to log into work. May this autumn be one of a better harvest.

Cover Photo by Dennis Buchner on Unsplash

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black lives matter. period.

There seems to be a sense of expectation hanging in the air, at least here for me. Some of that is the fact that after months of unemployment, I will be starting not one new job on Monday, but two! I pretty much won’t have a life here for a while, but neither of them pay what I’m accustomed to and combined they might just let me climb up out of the hole I find myself in financially.

Add to that confirmation that an event I had been looking forward to in August is still happening (at least at this moment…who knows what the future will bring…but it IS in Texas, so…yeah, no idea how that will affect things), and I am cautiously hopeful.

With so much wrong in this country right now, with death and dismay all around us, it feels good to have something to look forward to. But, we have to remember, this pandemic isn’t gone. And, we are sure to see spikes in the numbers going forward, with so many bodies out there protesting, with businesses opening, with so many people just acting as if now that we have a new threat, the old one is gone.

People are still dying of this virus. Which in no way means that I do not support the protests or my black brothers and sisters. I totally understand their choices, because if your choice is a slow, agonizing death or a fight to prevent senseless, violent death? I’d choose the latter every time.

I wish I had what it took to be out there with them, but I’ll be honest, between my agoraphobia and my immuno-compromised system, I break out in a cold sweat just looking at the pictures on my TV.

My new jobs will help me stay home too, since they’re both work from home. It means a lot of stuff I might normally be doing gets put on hold, such as writing. Today and tomorrow might actually be the last few days I have to get words out of my head and down on paper for the next few months.

So I should probably get on that…and make more coffee! Remember, Black Lives Matter. Kindness Matters. Love Matters.

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just promise me no zombies

With allergy season in full swing here in Northern California, it can be hard to convince folks that I’m not “sick” and that it is “just allergies”. My eyes are constantly itching and watering. I’m so congested and my sinuses so swollen that my face is puffy. And to make the whole trifecta, there is the asthma reaction to trying to do almost anything when my hayfever is like this. That means a dry, hacky cough.

Want to guess who gets ALL of the dirty looks when I venture beyond my driveway?

Granted, I’m not venturing much or far. I’ve done most of my grocery shopping by delivery, making the most of Safeway’s two hour windows. There are some things you can’t get delivered though…or at least, not at a price I’m willing to pay.

And I am willing to pay for the convenience of delivery most of the time. I just try to do it without it costing a fortune, and I try to avoid the apps, and rely on stores that do their own delivery.

But, when the prescriptions are ready, I need to venture out, and I try to use the occasion to pick up those things that I can’t get on order…the stuff you just “luck” across, like the yeast I found in the bakery section last week when I had to be in Safeway to pick up a prescription.

I’ve also turned to bartering. I scored some bread flour from a neighbor, and some ginger from another neighbor this week. Traded a bottle of olive oil for the flour, and some garlic for the ginger. All with proper social distancing…drop the item on the porch, retreat to road…they make the swap, and once inside, I go back up to the porch and retrieve my item.

Right now there is bread dough in my fridge getting all ready to go into the oven later today. I’m using this super simple, 4 ingredient, no kneading recipe for a rustic sort of artisan loaf. I’m going to trade it for a bottle of wine from my sister-in-law.

I’m not going to lie, I’m kind of terrified of what is to come. We’re opening ourselves back up way too quickly and if “they” think the economy was hurting due to people staying home, imagine how much more it’s going to hurt when more and more people are dead or dying?

We aren’t going to have to wait for a second wave in the fall. So, if this is the start of the apocalypse, best dust off those gardening and bartering skills now.

I only hope that we don’t see mutations in the virus, or this and that virus coming together to form an even deadlier one…or give us zombies. I can manage everything but zombies.

Happy Friday, Readers. Be kind to one another. Be kind to yourself.

Cover Photo by Dark Labs on Unsplash

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